


The Light of Dawn (Chocobros Ending for FFXV)

by yallneedtrashjesus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Post-Endgame, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yallneedtrashjesus/pseuds/yallneedtrashjesus
Summary: After Noct's Ascension wipes out the daemons they were fighting, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis head to the throne room to discover what's become of their friend and liege.This is the ending I expected, needed, and wanted. This is closure.Feels abound, folks. I mean it— literal tears have been shed over this piece, and not just my own!





	

# The Light of Dawn

  
  
Two of the three were seconds away from certain death when it happened. 

The sky blazed blue and then blindingly white, and a terrible rending sound enveloped the world— as if Eos itself were splitting in twain. The ground beneath them quaked, and each fell where he stood. A powerful gale surged from the palace behind them, swirling dust and minor bits of debris. Shielding their eyes, but fearful of being crushed beneath the daemons each was fighting, they blindly tried to scramble away. The daemons staggered and turned, screeching in agony and outrage against the brilliant light.

And then it was over. 

When Prompto opened his eyes, all was dark— but the daemons were gone. There were no bodies, no bloodstains…only the rabble and ruins remained. Ignis lay on his back a few feet in front of him, bleeding from a long slash across his chest. 

Gladio, his back to them, threw down his sword and let loose a terrible scream. It was worse a sound than the one that had come with the light, and it tore Prompto’s heart. 

Noctis was gone. 

He had no way of explaining it, but he felt his friend’s absence from the world as surely as Gladio did. 

His mind screamed and his eyes burned, but no tears would come— he was too exhausted. 

“What happened? Are the daemons gone?” Ignis tried to stand, but rolled over on his side instead.

Prompto reholstered his pistol. Wincing against the pain that wracked his body, he then crawled to the fallen Ignis. 

“Yeah.” Prompto’s voice came out as a whisper. Even that had nearly been caught in his throat; he felt he didn’t have the breath to push it out. 

Ignis turned towards Prompto’s voice, his face inches away. “Noct’s…gone, isn’t he?” 

Prompto took Ignis’ hand and squeezed, having no more words. 

Time stood still then. Gladio stared up at the slowly lightening sky, and Prompto held Ignis’ hand, the two grieving silently and tearlessly. 

After a while, Prompto looked up. The inky blackness was burning away, replaced with the orange and red of dawn. 

Gladio slowly walked towards them. “Are you both alright?” 

“I shouldn’t be, but I believe so,” Ignis grunted. “Are you or Prompto injured?”

Prompto’s left arm hung weakly at his side, and he guessed the muscles had been cut through above his elbow. But he was alive. 

Gladio, too, was covered in cuts and was barely standing on his right leg, but he seemed fine, too, considering. 

The battle had lasted no more than ten minutes from the time Noct had left them at the foot of the stairs. Had Noct not been so quick to face his destiny, they all would have died. Each knew this in his heart; none needed to say it because the person they needed to say it to wasn’t here to hear them. 

“We’re okay. My arm’s all messed up, but I’m alright.”

Gladio held out his hand to Prompto, and pulled him to his feet. He then did the same for Ignis. Ignis fumbled and fell against Gladio, but Gladio was quick to catch and steady him. 

Prompto untied the bloodied bandana from his arm and retied it around the torn flesh above his left elbow. He should have felt sickening pain from his wound, but he was only conscious of the pain in his heart. 

They each turned towards the stairs and looked up at the palace. 

Ignis was the first to take a step up the stairs. Prompto watched him carefully, but when he was satisfied that Ignis’ injuries weren’t hindering his movement, he followed. Gladio, usually leading the group, followed last. 

The elevator was still operational, so they rode it up once more, their hearts perhaps even more leaden than the first time. 

They ran from the elevator to the antechamber of the throne room. Whether they ran out of some small hope that they were wrong and that their friend might yet need them, or because they needed concrete proof that their friend was no more, none could say. 

The doors were still open. 

Prompto gasped as he beheld the throne, and it took all his strength to remain standing. 

Gladio, too, made a strangled noise. 

“What?” Ignis asked. 

“It’s Noct,” Gladio managed weakly. “It’s…better you can’t see, Iggy.” 

“But I must,” said Ignis, desperately. 

Ignis rushed for the throne. Gladio grabbed his shoulder, but Ignis shrugged him off. 

Ignis’ right foot found the first stair to the throne. Finding the railing, he climbed. 

Prompto only stared in horror, frozen. 

Ignis reached down. Something soft met his outstretched fingertips— hair. Noct’s hair. He gasped. 

He’d thought, or perhaps hoped, that Noct’s body would have vanished like Ardyn’s. Vanished with the blinding light, as the daemons had. 

His hands explored Noct’s face, felt the stubble along his jaw, the closed eyes. His friend was warm, as if sleeping. 

And he would have thought him only sleeping until his hands traveled further and found the ice-cold sword pinning Noctis to the throne. 

A moan escaped him. He felt around the entry place of the sword, found the warm, sticky blood on Noct’s shirt. Holding Noct’s shoulder in place with his left hand, he pulled the sword free with his right and dropped it to the ground.

Noct slumped into his waiting arms, and Ignis crumpled at the foot of the throne with his friend’s body, sobbing. He pressed his forehead against Noct’s, showering his fallen friend with his tears. 

It was Ignis’ despair that brought Prompto running up to the throne. 

Prompto stared down at his best friend’s face. It was still full of color, but his form was limp, still, unearthly— awful, terrible, unimaginable. He couldn’t bring himself to touch Noct— even if Ignis hadn’t been holding him. 

Instead he looked to the throne, to the blood pooled upon and spattered there. That’s when he noticed the photograph resting on the arm. He hadn’t seen which Noct had chosen; none of them had asked to see, instead giving him the privacy of this final act.

It was face up, and Prompto took it between his fingers. It was a picture of the three of them: Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio. One of the few that Noct himself had taken. In it, Ignis was running from a catoblepas, while he and Gladio had arms around each other’s shoulders to keep from falling because they were laughing so hard. Prompto had sneaked mushrooms into Ignis’ inner jacket pockets the night prior and left Ignis’ sole remaining Ebony near the slough shore that morning in order to draw him there. 

Noct had helped him with the prank, and they’d laughed for three days straight about it afterwards. 

Falling at Noct’s side, opposite Ignis, he allowed the tears to come. 

Even considering his past, he had never felt so utterly alone. 

He had never felt so empty. 

Gladio crushed them in a hug then that surprised them both enough to stay their tears momentarily. They pulled each other closer— and when Gladio broke, Prompto and Ignis’ tears began anew. 

They held each other for what felt both like an eternity and an instant. They cried until their eyes ached and there were no more tears left. Until their Kingsglaive uniforms were soaked with their own and each other’s grief. 

When sunlight poured into the broken throne room for the first time in ten years, they continued to sit with Noctis, letting the hard-won light shine upon them all. It only seemed right that Noct should feel it again, and for them to share the moment with him. 

Sometime much later, Prompto showed the photo to Gladio. At first his face was blank, and Prompto wasn’t sure what his friend was feeling. Then Gladio burst out laughing, and couldn’t stop. It was contagious, and Prompto started to laugh with him. His sides already ached from sobbing, and now they hurt again. 

Ignis slowly raised his head. “What could possibly be so funny?”

“Do you remember that morning down by Alstor?” Gladio asked. “When you ran from the catoblepas?”

Ignis continued to frown, but then, like dawn breaking, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“I believe I’m scarred for life.” 

Ignis was making fun of himself— despite everything, despite how mad he’d been with them for that prank. And that’s why, at that moment, it was the funniest thing any of them had ever heard. 

Tears were soon streaming down their faces again, but this time from joy. 

They sat in silence for some time, letting the warmth wash over them. They’d truly forgotten what sunlight felt like. It was glorious. This is what Noctis had fought and died for. This, and a future free of the darkness. Free of Ardyn, the Crystal, and the Empire. 

Prompto hadn’t the slightest idea what they would do next. They’d spent ten years hunting daemons, but now the daemons were gone. Insomnia, if anyone chose to live there again, would need to be rebuilt. 

But there was one thing they had to take care of first, and Ignis broached the subject. 

“Where…should we take him?” Ignis asked. 

“He deserves his own tomb,” said Prompto. “A goddamn monument.”

“He wouldn’t want that,” Ignis said gently. “He’d wish to be buried somewhere private, where only we knew where he was.”

“Any ideas?” Gladio asked. 

But as they had been sitting in the sunlight, Noct had started to disappear. His body was slowly vanishing inch by inch, and larger portions of him had become invisible where the sunlight was the strongest. 

Prompto noticed it first because he’d turned to look at Noct in order to get an idea of where to lay him to rest. 

“No—"

He tried grasping his friend, but his hands went right through him. They all tried the same— even Ignis after quickly surmising what must be happening—, trying to hold on to some part of Noct before his physical essence vanished forever…but he was fading away before their eyes now. 

Gladio clasped each of their shoulders, as if to say that it was okay— that it was time to say goodbye. 

So they did. 

“Bye, buddy.” 

“Farewell, Noct.”

“Rest in peace, Noct. You earned it.” 

They watched as Noct vanished completely from the world. 

After staring out at the open sky awhile, Prompto once more looked to the spot where Noct had lain. The photo of them had fallen facedown between Prompto and Gladio. Now Prompto could see that there was something written on the back. Written in…ash, or something dark (Noct hadn’t carried a pen). 

Noticing the line of Prompto’s gaze, Gladio took the photo in his fingers and held it up for both of them to to see. Although Noct’s handwriting was terrible, the words were clear. 

They looked at each other, smiles lighting their faces. 

Prompto tapped Ignis on the shoulder. “Iggy, Noct wrote something on the back of the photo.”

“What does it say?”

“’I love you guys.’” 

Ignis smiled. And even though his eyes couldn’t see the world any longer, Prompto and Gladio could see the joy in those pale eyes.


End file.
